


Perfect Paradise (Staring back at me)

by Finduilas



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Set after The Avengers (2012)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 19:11:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21213650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finduilas/pseuds/Finduilas
Summary: Tony doesn’t actually notice it at first, and even if he had, he isn’t exactly known for caring what other people think about him. And the first time it does actually catch his attention, Tony is mildly amused.





	Perfect Paradise (Staring back at me)

**Author's Note:**

> Born out of a conversation on Twitter when someone posted some gifs of Steve not holding Tony's gaze and looking down rapidly. What if this is a thing Steve does? What if he simply can't look Tony in the eyes? It turned into a 14K fic. Oops? 
> 
> Title from "Bad Liar" by Imagine Dragons, except the original is "Perfect paradise, tearing at the seams". I adapted it to fit the fic. 
> 
> Many thanks to Gemma for the Beta. <3
> 
> Link to Tumblr post, with fanart-banner: https://finduilasclln.tumblr.com/post/188655484606/perfect-paradise-staring-back-at-me-tony-doesnt

Tony doesn’t actually notice it at first, and even if he had, he isn’t exactly known for caring what other people think about him. And the first time it does actually catch his attention, Tony is mildly amused. They’re pretty much just sitting around, debriefing turned into ordering Chinese food and talking nonsense, just blowing off steam. Tony has come to realize that he likes those moments more and more. 

He’s always been accused - quite rightly he has to admit - of being a party animal. He does well in large crowds, being surrounded and admired by lots of people, putting up this persona that is larger than life. His bravado an armor around him in itself. The crowd aren’t individuals anymore, it’s just a mass. It’s easy to avoid actual meaningful interactions this way. 

He does even better by himself, tinkering away at projects, lost in thoughts of problem-solving and creating new things. He doesn’t have to pretend to be anybody. Nobody around to secretly judge him, measure him up against others, misunderstand what he’s about. Not a lot of people know who Tony really is. 

It’s the small crowds, or the one-on-ones, the individual people and relationships where you can’t just blow things off or think about how that one person really doesn’t matter in the mass or would be noticed if they left the room.

Tony has never been very comfortable with that, and so it surprises even himself when all of a sudden he can forget about his unease and just… be part of it. Tony certainly never thought he’d get to this point when he first met them. “The Avengers.” They kind of got lumped together, differences and all, were forced to work together and by some kind of miracle of the Gods - and oh yeah, they had one of those too - it actually worked. Most of the time anyway. 

And now Tony’s bank account may pay for the pizza or the sushi or that God awful meat jelly that Natasha loves so much (and everyone knows you don’t say no to Natasha) but they’re all just…. Dare he say it? Friends? 

So the first time Tony notices it, he writes it off to embarrassment because Clint is telling a sordid story that has Bruce’s ears go bright red and has Tony belting out a laugh, and as he looks up his eyes catch Steve’s, but only for a split second before Steve’s dart down and Tony thinks he sees the hint of a blush on Steve’s cheeks. It’s amusing to Tony, the thought of this larger than life All American Hero getting flustered by a dirty anecdote. Sometimes it’s not that hard to forget that Steve comes from a different era. 

He doesn’t think much more of it at the time. Except that… Tony would notice if Steve left the room. 

***

After a while, Tony does start to notice. He’s beginning to see a pattern. Steve will look at him, their eyes will lock, and then Steve will lower his gaze ever so slightly, before looking away altogether. Sometimes Tony will just catch it out of the corner of his eye. 

Tony wonders if he’s imagining things at first, because while he thinks he’s just realistic and prepared for anything, people have been known to call him paranoid. (And really? It just doesn’t seem fair because all of a sudden there’s other realms and aliens and how is wanting to protect them from that _ paranoid? _) But he’s nothing if not a scientist, so he starts making mental notes. Gotta have enough data. 

It’s not like Steve will never hold his gaze, it’s just that… it happens a lot. Tony was starting to think they were making progress so why on earth would Steve find it so damn difficult to look Tony in the eye? 

***

“I can’t believe you!” Tony calls out, genuinely offended. He puts down the screwdriver on the bench with a little more force than necessary. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, rather sheepishly and bewildered, “I didn’t think-” 

“No, you really didn’t!” Tony cuts him off, shaking his head in disbelief, “That much is clear.” 

Steve opens his mouth to say something else, but Tony is on a roll now. 

“And I have to hear it from Nat too!” Tony scoffs, all but rolling his eyes. 

“I’m here now, Tony,” Steve says, like it really isn’t a big deal at all. 

“What am I, Cap?” Tony asks, turning towards Steve and giving him a pointed look. 

“_ What? _ I-” Steve says with a stammer, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. 

“Am I or am I not an engineer?” Tony asks, and he realizes full well he’s being overly dramatic when he calls out into the air, “JARVIS? Can you enlighten Captain Rogers for me?” 

“Certainly, Sir,” the soft voice of JARVIS fills the room instantly, “Captain, Mister Stark has a PHD in Engineering and Physics from MIT.” 

Tony can see Steve roll his eyes when JARVIS projects Tony’s degrees on the wall of the workshop, and he sighs as he decides that maybe he needs to tone it down a notch. 

“Thank you, JARVIS,” Tony says, calmly, and the projection disappears with a bleep. 

Tony takes a step towards Steve and holds out his hand, deflated. 

“Come on then,” Tony says, wiggling his fingers a little bit, “Give me the damn thing.” 

Steve digs his hand into the pocket of his khakis and fishes out his phone. 

“I honestly didn’t think it was such a big deal,” Steve says, and it feels like a peace offering as he gently places the phone in Tony’s hand, “But now I know, okay?”

Tony wraps his fingers around the device, tips brushing ever so slightly against Steve’s skin as he pulls away his hand. Tony does his best to suppress any reaction, instead looking up at Steve and saying, “Now you know.” 

There’s a fraction of a second where Steve’s eyes meet his, something unreadable reflected in them, but then Steve lowers his gaze. Not in a hurry, but slow and controlled and instead of looking at Tony straight on again, he tilts his head slightly, looking at the wall that JARVIS had lit up with projections just a minute ago. 

“Take a seat,” Tony says, and he turns away towards the bench when he realizes Steve isn’t planning on looking back at him, “This’ll just take a minute.” 

Steve does as he’s told, explaining the technical problem with the phone as Tony tries to shake off the uneasy feeling and gets to work. 

At least Tony’s sure Steve will never try going to a repair shop again when he’s got freaking Iron Man at his disposal. 

***

Tony Stark knows he’s easy on the eyes. He also knows that there are more important things in life - yes, he truly has grown out of his wild years - but it makes him fairly certain that the reason Steve seems to have trouble looking at Tony isn’t because Tony is hideously ugly. He’s looked at himself in the mirror. He knows. 

Which means that the reason has to be deeper than that, and Tony doesn’t like the sound of that. 

He wonders if maybe he’s offended Steve in some way, or if their relationship really hasn’t evolved that much from those first arguing moments and Steve is just keeping up appearances for the sake of the group. He wonders if Steve would even be capable of that though. Steve does have an annoyingly good heart and honest soul. Tony really doesn’t think Steve could ever be that two-faced, not even if it was under the guise of politeness, or to save the universe. 

So he’s back to questioning if he’s done something to piss Steve off. Sure, Tony pulls and pokes and he knows he has a sense of humor that not everyone appreciates, but Steve can give as good as he gets… Well, maybe he’s not quite as easy with the quips as Tony is, but sometimes it’s so blatantly obvious when Steve gets riled up by what Tony says, just as it is clear that he knows not to take it personally. 

Surely Steve knows Tony by now, and knows exactly that Tony uses his snarky comments as a shield, not as a weapon. 

***

Tony isn’t quite sure if he should curse or thank the fact that he stumbled onto Steve rummaging through the cupboards in the bathroom of one of the many Stark Towers guest rooms after most of them stayed over the night before, too tired from the mission to go back home. 

Steve has clearly come out of the shower not long before, his hair still wet and slicked back, wearing only boxers and a loose shirt. Tony has pretty much everything handy for everyone on any occasion, so he can’t quite imagine what Steve is still looking for. 

“Can I help you?” Tony asks, trying not to linger on how good Steve looks. He’s so used to seeing Steve in tight shirts or body-clinging uniforms that it almost feels contradictory that Steve should look so damn good in a loose shirt, but there’s something about the way he simply looks comfortable and free that resonates with Tony. 

“I’m looking for shaving cream,” Steve says, closing one of the drawers as he turns towards Tony. “And a razor, for that matter.” 

“There’s a razor in that drawer you just closed,” Tony says, slightly amused, “I thought you had perfect vision, Mister Super Soldier?” Steve just gives him a look. “And why do you need shaving cream?” 

“I thought _ you _ were a genius, _ PHD In Engineering _,” Steve shoots back, the edge of his lip tugging up a little bit in amusement. 

“Among many, many other things,” Tony smirks, stepping into the bathroom and opening the drawer that Steve has just closed to grab the electric razor he’s sure is there. “Voila!” 

“That is not what I mean,” Steve says, and Tony just now notices how close they’re actually standing because Steve didn’t step aside when Tony moved towards the drawer. Tony wonders if the warmth radiating off Steve is the lingering heat of the shower or quite simply… Steve. “I meant like an actual razor, with blades. And shaving cream.” 

“This is so much quicker and easier,” Tony says, giving the machine a quick whirl. “And look, it’s wireless. Also, there are attachments…” Tony rummages around in the drawer. “Like, if you want to trim a little mustache or something.” 

“And look like you?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow, throwing a fleeting grin. “Modern doesn’t always mean better, Tony.” 

“You don’t know how to use this, do you?” Tony asks, ignoring Steve’s comment as he locks eyes with him. Steve simply sighs and looks away quickly in what could be embarrassment and Tony is about a hundred percent sure he’s right on this. 

“A little stubble doesn’t look too bad on you though,” Tony says, and it comes out as humor but there’s a hell of a lot of truth behind it, “But maybe it doesn’t fit the wholesome hero image you’re going for, right?” 

“I’m not going for an image,” Steve sputters in protest, his eyes scanning the floor. It’s so easy to push his buttons, Tony thinks. 

“Oh please,” Tony calls out, “I saw those USO promo posters! The tights and the boots and that lovely hat. Did someone’s grandma knit that for you?” 

“Oh shut up,” Steve shakes his head, and Tony might feel bad about teasing him if he didn’t see the smile tugging at Steve’s lips. “Guess I just needed a Stark to make me a decent uniform?” Steve goes on, leaning back against the sink countertop, his fingers curling around the edge of the white tablet. 

“Come on,” Tony says, pushing away any thoughts of his father because sometimes it is just too weird that Steve knew him way back when, before Tony was even born. He’s not entirely sure which of the two he should be jealous of for knowing the other. 

He puts his hands on Steve’s biceps and turns the both of them around, so that Steve is facing him as Tony hops onto the countertop, then holds up the razor. 

“Tony…” Steve starts, somewhat exasperated. 

“I taught you how to use a microwave, I’ll teach you how to shave, Rogers,” Tony doesn’t take no for an answer as he tugs at Steve’s shirt to get him to step a little bit closer. “I don’t know why you don’t just _ ask _ me these things to begin with,” Tony mutters, shaking his head slightly. 

“Maybe because I’m a grown man?” Steve muses, but he does as he’s asked and steps forward, almost in between Tony’s legs who’s sitting on the counter. Steve’s eyes are cast up at the ceiling. 

“I can see that, _ trust me _,” Tony mutters under his breath, and even though Steve certainly heard him, he doesn’t comment. Tony is grateful for it. 

Tony blinks as he turns on the electric razor, looking at Steve’s jawline. Maybe he hasn’t quite thought this through because shaving Steve means a lot of things that Tony isn’t sure he knows how he feels about. Like being in such close proximity, ‘cause really? Does Steve just radiate heat naturally? And why does he feel about a billion feet bigger than Tony all of a sudden, when Tony knows that in reality there’s no more than 3 inches difference. He knows this for a fact. 

The thing he really didn’t think about is how he’s kind of obligated to touch Steve’s face now that he’s strong armed Steve into letting Tony shave him. The buzzing of the razor hides the sound of Tony swallowing hard as he places his fingers over Steve’s jaw, thumb resting on his chin and Tony suddenly doesn’t know what is normal anymore. Too hard a grip and he’s compensating. Too soft and he’s losing himself in the moment. 

Tony slides the razor over Steve’s cheek, tiny stubble disappearing in an instant. He clears his throat before speaking. “See, you don’t need water or shaving cream,” Tony says, aiming for a sense of normalcy. Steve hums in response, his eyes somewhere over Tony’s head. “And it’s actually pretty self-explanatory,” Tony goes on, moving the razor over Steve’s jawline. He moves his thumb out of the way, involuntarily stroking down Steve’s throat, adam’s apple jumping in reply. Tony presses his lips together, his ears buzzing. This was a very bad idea, he thinks, because he’s finding it harder and harder to ignore the obvious. His eyes search out Steve’s, to gage his reaction, to see if he notices that Tony is betraying himself as blatantly as he thinks he is. 

But Steve isn’t actually looking at him. Steve’s eyes are flicking back and forth, over Tony’s head, next to Tony’s face… anywhere but actually _ at _Tony. And no matter how close they are standing to each other - Steve’s body somewhere in between Tony’s spread legs - it feels painfully distant to Tony. Like Steve honestly can’t bring himself to look at Tony, for whatever reason. 

“If you wanna get a real close shave with these things,” Tony forces himself to speak as he slides the machine over the skin of Steve’s face. “You should actually go against the grain.”

“Right…” Steve says, barely moving a muscle, sounding somewhat strained. 

Tony curls his index and middle finger under Steve’s chin, gently pushing his head up as he moves the razor down underneath Steve’s jawline. He tries to keep his breathing steady as Steve complies easily, exposing his throat to Tony. The razor almost slips out of his hand when he thinks he can detect Steve’s pulse underneath this skin, or maybe it’s just muscles contracting but either way it catches Tony off guard. He presses his lips harder together, the sound of his breathing through his nose almost deafening to his own ears. 

Steve’s skin is deceivingly soft under his fingertips, his hair is still damp, his body emitting heat. Then Steve shifts his weight from one leg to the other, accidentally brushing up against the inside of Tony’s thigh and Tony all but jumps out of his skin. His eyes shoot up to Steve’s in a reflex, but Steve’s eyes are closed, only opening a second later to immediately look down, avoiding Tony’s gaze. 

“So uhm…” Tony says, cursing himself instantly because he really has no idea what to say. He is saved mere moments later as he shaves off the last patch of stubble near Steve’s ear, and flicks off the electric razor. “All done.” 

“Right,” Steve says, shooting Tony a weird smile as he takes a step back and glances at himself in the mirror. 

“Smooth like a baby’s bottom,” Tony says, resisting the urge to reach out and touch that smoothness. Instead, he puts down the razor next to him on the countertop and hops off, giving Steve a pat on the shoulder as he passes by. He feels absolutely no need to stretch out the awkwardness and heads straight for the door. 

“Tony…” Steve calls out, and Tony can’t help but spin around in reply. Steve looks at him for a second, before saying a simple “Thanks.” 

Tony can’t help but wonder if that’s really why he called after him, but he just nods and says, “anytime” before leaving the guest room. 

***

It’s not a coincidence anymore, or even a figment of his own imagination, Tony is sure of this. But he still can’t figure it out. He’s sure that it’s his own fault, of course. Because Steve is annoyingly perfect. He’s known this all along. Even his father told him so growing up. 

It’s a strange situation - but then again, it’s a strange world they’re currently living in - that his father knew Steve before Tony was even born. That he had a hand in making Steve the man he is today, a man that Tony… well, _ loves _. There’s no way around it. Little did Tony know that when his father would gush about the great Captain America, the nation’s hero, Tony would grow up to live in a world where this larger than life character returned, and where they would be brought together to join forces, to save the world. When he was a boy, Tony figured that this Captain America superhero would probably be a real bore. Too clean-cut, too duty-conscious, too artificially perfect for Tony’s rebellious ways. The way his father would describe him.

Tony most certainly isn’t his father, and maybe that’s just the thing? Sure, Tony has inherited quite a few strengths from his old man but he took it, ran with it and did his own thing. He didn’t become a copy of his dad, not by a long shot. 

And maybe that’s just it? Steve knew Howard, _ liked _ Howard by all accounts, and Tony is no Howard. So does Steve just see all the things that Tony is not? Does he realize the potential Tony had, the man Tony could be, and is he disappointed Tony didn’t live up to all the things his father wanted for him? Does Steve just see a faulty version of Howard when he looks at Tony? 

And is that why Steve can’t really look at Tony at all? 

***

Tony’s head is ringing, darkness before his eyes. He’s vaguely aware of JARVIS spewing out his vital signs, but he has no idea who actually asked for them. He thinks he lets out a groan as his face plate springs open and fresh air hits his face. 

“Tony!” 

His eyelids feel heavy as he tries to pry them open and fails. 

“_ Tony! _” 

Reality is very slowly coming back to him, the ringing in his ears and the tingling of his limbs subsiding, his brain piecing together what happened. It’s Steve’s voice that’s calling out for him, demanding and loud, and Tony kind of wants to tell him to stop yelling in his face, but that just feels like a crazy amount of effort right now. 

Instead Tony focuses on opening his eyes, which seems like a more realistic goal at the moment. It takes him a few seconds to blink them open but when he does, he’s staring straight into Steve’s, and the air feels like leaving his lungs again. 

“Tony…” Steve says for the God-knows-how-manieth time, but his voice sounds almost unrecognizable. Tony must’ve been conked on the head real good if Steve’s voice doesn’t sound one hundredth percent familiar to him. 

“Steve,” Tony says, and it’s weird because he’s almost certain he meant to ask what had happened, and not just call out Steve’s name. 

Steve’s face is hanging over him, jaw clenched and lips pressed together, clear blue eyes piercing into Tony’s and it feels almost enough to jolt energy back into him. 

“Careful,” Steve says, his eyes flickering down Tony’s armor as he tries to move, before focusing back on Tony’s gaze. Steve’s hand is on Tony’s chest, and Tony only realizes it now that he’s trying to sit up and Steve gently holds him into place. “Give it a minute.” Steve’s voice sounds soft but strangled. He’s hovering over Tony, almost motionless, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he’s locking eyes with Tony and he’s not letting go. It feels like oxygen to Tony. 

“ ‘m okay,” Tony manages to get out. He’s barely aware of Bruce lingering somewhere in the background, and he thinks he catches a glimpse of Natasha out of the corner of his eye but he can’t seem to manage looking away from Steve to check. 

“You took a bad blow to the head, Tony,” Steve says, and Tony wonders why Steve sounds out of breath all of a sudden. 

“I’ve got armor,” Tony says, finding his voice again, trying to muster up a reassuring smile for Steve. Clearly he fails splendidly because Steve looks anything but reassured. 

“Dammit Tony, you’re not invincible,” Steve sighs, tilting his head away as he closes his eyes and even though it’s only for a second, Tony misses the sight of them already. 

“When did I say I was?” Tony asks, frowning, pushing himself up on his elbows. This time Steve doesn’t stop him, and helps him by placing one hand around his back and grabbing Tony’s arm with the other, pulling him up. 

To his credit, Steve doesn’t actually mention the times Tony pretty much literally exclaimed how nobody could touch him in the suit, how he was indeed invincible. Instead he helps Tony up to a sitting position, kneeling down next to him. 

“Did we win?” Tony asks, because he seems to have touched on a sore subject.

“Thor finished it,” Steve says, nodding his head to somewhere behind Tony, where Tony figures Thor must be, but he’s taking Steve at his word because turning around is most definitely too much effort on his sore muscles right now. 

“You should probably get checked out by a doctor,” Steve says, the look in his eyes ernest and pure. 

“When do we ever?” Tony asks, a smile tugging at his lips. He notes the smear of blood on Steve’s cheekbone and the dirt in his ridiculously long eyelashes. They all get hurt during these fights, and they always brush it off too easily. Tony knows that one day that’ll come back to bite them in the ass, but for now he genuinely feels like he’ll be okay. The buzzing in his head is gone, the ache in his limbs will fade soon as well, and his vision is bright and clear again as he looks back into Steve’s eyes, soaking in the beauty. He’ll probably keep a nice headache as a souvenir for a while, but somehow Tony can’t really seem to care much right now. 

“Come on,” Steve just says, slipping an arm underneath Tony’s shoulder, slowly hoisting him back on his feet. Tony regrets the loss of Steve’s gaze on him as he carries almost all of Tony’s weight, pulling the armored suit against his side. 

As they walk away unhurriedly, Tony regrets yet another thing… that he can’t feel Steve’s touch through the Nitinol. 

***

As predicted, Tony just has a nasty headache for a few days, but luckily it fades steadily. 

And Steve… Steve goes back to avoiding Tony’s gaze most of the time, and it goes back to driving Tony crazy. 

***

Tony isn’t exactly proud of his little outburst, but he’s been keeping his annoyance with Steve in for too long, and everyone always says he’s too explosive anyway. Also, he hasn’t had his morning coffee yet, obviously.

So when they’re all having breakfast at the tower, and Clint accidentally knocks a fresh hot cup of coffee out of Tony’s hand - for a sharpshooter and a superhero, Hawkeye can be ridiculously clumsy sometimes - spilling some of it on his shirt and his arc reactor, Tony is already on edge. Then Tony asks Steve for the towel that is hanging over a chair just to Steve’s left and Steve once again ostentatiously avoids looking at Tony, and Tony just snaps. It’s the final straw. 

“Forget it, I’ll grab it myself!” Tony grits through his teeth. Even though he can tell that Steve is already making a move for it, he yanks the towel off the chair and presses it to his chest roughly. 

“Whoa…” Natasha exclaims, eyes wide, and Tony can feel the entire room staring at him. 

“Tony, I was - ” Steve starts, confused, gesturing towards the chair where the towel was hung. 

“_ Forget it! _” Tony snaps again, and as he’s pushing past Thor to leave the room, he already knows he’s overreacting. 

But he just can’t stand it anymore. It is starting to feel like Steve can’t even bear to be around him anymore, and there’s only so long Tony can go on ignoring it. Because it hurts. It actually fucking hurts, and this is coming from a man that was at the frontline of the Battle of New York. 

But the feeling that Steve can’t stand to look Tony in the eyes, can’t stand to be near him… that’s far more painful than any fight he’s ever been in. 

Tony slams the door shut behind him for good measure as he enters his room, throws the damn towel to the floor, and tugs his wet shirt over his head. 

“Fuck!” He shouts out, grabbing a clean cotton cloth out of a drawer just as the door behind him opens.

“Tony,” Steve says, demanding, now standing in Tony’s bedroom. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be the poster boy for etiquette?” Tony snaps, turning towards Steve. “Since when don’t you knock anymore?” 

Steve doesn’t answer, just stares at Tony - _ finally _ \- and asks, “What was that all about?” 

Tony huffs, reaches for the arc reactor in his chest and twists it slightly to remove it. He doesn’t particularly like doing this in front of anyone - let alone Steve. It makes him feel vulnerable and uncomfortable, but the pissed off feeling he’s having is definitely taking the upper hand because he’s not going to stop doing what he has to do simply because _ the Captain _ comes barging into his room and demands answers. Tony’s no soldier, he isn’t obligated to give Steve what he wants. He wipes the cloth over the arc reactor, cleaning it thoroughly. One can never be too careful, even though he knows JARVIS would have informed him if anything was malfunctioning. 

“Are you...?” Steve trails off, nodding towards Tony’s chest with a sudden sheepish look on his face. Tony thinks the next word was meant to be “okay” but Steve never actually finishes his sentence. 

Tony just shoots him a look, now wiping off the edges of the hole in his chest and he’s somewhat pleased to see that Steve at least has the decency to look uncomfortable too. 

He flicks the cloth on the dresser and puts the arc reactor back with a satisfying click. He lets out a small puff of air, as he feels the familiar pull in his chest. It subsides within seconds. Tony is used to it by now. 

“Are you still here?” Tony asks Steve sharply, knowing that he’s being entirely too harsh, and yet he can’t seem to bring himself to care. 

“What the - ? “ Steve asks, confused, before his face hardens. “What is wrong with you?” 

“What’s wrong with _ me _?” Tony asks, incredulous. 

“Clint really didn’t do that on purpose, you know that,” Steve starts, “And I was just trying to - ” 

“This isn’t about Clint!” Tony exclaims, because honestly, Tony broke about a dozen of Hawkeye’s arrows last week during an experiment and Clint was a good sport about it too. Well, that and Tony upgraded his entire arsenal afterwards. 

“Then _ what _?” Steve asks, irritation audible in his voice. 

“Am I seriously that hard to deal with?” Tony asks, bitter. He wonders if he even wants to know the answer. He can handle a lot of things, but Steve is most definitely his weak spot. “‘Cause if I am, nobody’s holding you here, Cap. We don’t have to pretend to be this… band of brothers or whatever. You can just be here when work demands it, and stop pretending that you actually _ want _ to hang out.” And now Tony’s the one that can’t actually face Steve, turning away from him slightly. 

“Is that what _ you _ want?” Steve asks softly after a beat of silence. 

“What I _ want _…” Tony stresses, “... is for you to act like a normal human being around me.” 

“_ Oh _,” Steve’s voice sounds subdued. “I didn’t think you’d…” 

There’s a feeling boiling up inside of Tony’s chest, a mixture of anger and hurt and disappointment pushing its way to the surface. 

“_ You didn’t think I’d notice? _ ” Tony bites out, head snapping towards Steve, “You didn’t think I’d notice that everything about you screams that you can’t stand to be around me?! That the only time you can even look me in the eye is when you think I might actually _ die _? That you care so little about me tha - ”

“_ What? _” Steve interrupts forcefully, “Tony, wha - ? What are you talking about?” 

“I know that I am - ” Tony sighs, searching for his words. “That I annoy you. And that I’m nothing like you probably want me to be, that I’m wasting potential by being such an asshole, and… well, _ me _.” 

“Tony, who told you these things?” Steve is standing right in front of him now, looking shocked. 

“I’m not _ that _ wrapped up in myself, Steve,” Tony says, curt. “I do actually _ see _ what goes on around me.” 

“You’ve gone and put things in your head again…” Steve says, shaking his head, bewildered. 

“_ No! _ ” Tony says forcefully, because Steve is not going to turn this around on him, “You don’t get to do that! Because it’s been _ weeks _ now that you’ve been avoiding me.” Tony snorts as he looks at Steve who has his eyes cast down, and waves his hand in his direction as if to point out the evidence. “You can’t even look me in the eye right now.” The words come out more sad than angry, and Tony hates himself for that just a little bit. He wants to hold on to the anger, just long enough for Steve to disappear and Tony can go and tear some stuff apart in frustration. 

“Tony, no, I - ” Steve stammers, rubbing his fingers in his eyes. At least Steve looks crappy about the whole thing. Small comforts. 

Steve sighs, like he’s debating what to say, and Tony thinks he might finally get the truth until Steve says once again, “Tony. You’ve got this all wrong.” 

“Don’t!” Tony bites out, pointing a finger at Steve in warning. The word isn’t so much loud as is it threatening, because Tony actually thinks he’s capable of punching Steve in the face right now. Not that it would put a dent in Captain America’s pretty face, but it might make Tony feel slightly better for a second. 

Somehow Tony must’ve matured at least a little bit, because he fights the urge and instead walks to the door of his bedroom to hold it open. He can’t actually get out the words to ask Steve to leave, but the meaning is clear enough. 

“Tony…” Steve says for what feels like the millionth time, shaking his head like he’s not quite sure what to say or do. 

“Either find something truthful to follow that up with, Captain,” Tony says, his words cold, attempting to distance himself, “Or leave.” 

There’s a heartbroken look on Steve’s face, which Tony can’t quite understand because what does Steve have to be sad about? But the heartbreak soon becomes Tony’s when Steve takes a step forward, towards the door. 

_ This is it _, Tony thinks, because he doesn’t see how they’ll bounce back from this if Steve actually walks out on him right now. But then again, maybe the agony will truly start when they have to work together again, fight side by side like nothing is wrong, with everything Tony is feeling and everything Steve is… not. 

Tony holds his breath, moving to shut the door the second Steve is through it. He can hang on for that long, he tells himself. But then there’s a hand splayed out on the door with a thud, stopping Tony from closing it. 

“I can’t look you in the eye,” Steve says in one breath, his head ducked, the hand on the door seemingly used to steady himself. “You’re right.” 

_ Tell me something I don’t know _, Tony wants to say, but hearing the words out loud somehow makes it hurt even more, and Tony can’t bring himself to speak. 

“But if you think that it’s because I don’t want to be around you…” Steve says, his voice wavering a little bit, “Or that… you’re somehow a disappointment to me… or to anyone…” Steve shakes his head. “You could never be.” 

Tony blinks, his brain not quite comprehending what Steve is trying to tell him - and he’s an actual genius, dammit. 

“Steve…?” Tony asks, confused, because he still doesn’t understand. 

“It’s just too much sometimes,” Steve says, his gaze still on the floor, anywhere but on Tony, “When I look at you…” 

Steve looks almost terrified all of a sudden, and it raises the hair on Tony’s skin because he’s never seen Earth’s mightiest hero scared. 

“Too much of what?” Tony asks, his hand unconsciously moving to reach out to Steve. 

“Too much of you,” Steve confesses, and it stops Tony’s outreached hand in its tracks. 

“_ Oh _,” Tony says, his stomach falling. He always knew he could be overwhelming and wasn’t that just what he was saying all along? It’s him, it’s his personality. He drives people away, and he never really cared about it that much until the people was Steve. 

“And it scares me how much I want it.” 

Tony doesn’t move, and neither does Steve. He thinks he’s heard the words, but they don’t quite seem to register. Tony knows what every word means separately, but the sentence as a whole doesn’t make any sense, not when it comes out of Steve’s mouth, and he’s talking about… _ him _? 

The words just float in the air, buzzing in Tony’s ears, and he’s convinced he’s misunderstood. It _ has _ to be a mistake, because if it’s not… does that mean? 

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, no more than a whisper, and before Tony realizes, Steve is slowly moving away from him. 

Tony’s hand is on Steve’s arm before he even knows he’s doing it, and his grip is strong despite the fact that he knows Steve can easily escape it. Tony is still convinced he’s misunderstanding, that there’s got to be another explanation because what Steve seems to be saying to him just doesn’t make sense to Tony’s mind, even though it’s everything he wants. So the fact that he might actually get it doesn’t compute. But Tony is nothing if not impulsive and… well, reckless sometimes, so he throws caution to the wind and lunges up to press his lips against Steve’s. 

There’s a fraction of a second that Steve is frozen, and it feels like an eternity to Tony as every single catastrophic scenario passes through his head and Tony can’t even fully take in the fact that he’s kissing Steve. _ Steve _. But then Steve’s hands - God, those huge hands - come up to grip Tony’s arms, and Steve is pushing back against him, lips seeking out Tony’s with a purpose. 

Tony’s brain still can’t comprehend what is happening, but for once he’s grateful that his body knows how to react and he automatically opens up his mouth, just enough to let Steve slot his bottom lip in between his. The kiss is relatively chaste, just the press of two mouths brought together, and Tony has definitely had a lot of other kisses in his lifetime, but in this moment he can’t remember a single one that did more to him than this one, here, with Steve. 

It’s only when Steve’s hands slide over to his naked back that Tony remembers that he never actually put on a new shirt. Steve’s hands are surprisingly soft, barely making contact with Tony’s skin, like he’s almost scared to touch. Tony finds his own in between their bodies, palms covering Steve’s chest. 

The kiss breaks, barely, Steve’s mouth hovering over Tony’s, breath tingling on his lips. And then Tony leans in slightly to kiss Steve again, and again, soft pecks on waiting lips. They don’t actually break apart when the kiss ends, as Steve presses the side of his face against Tony’s, eyes closed, skin seeking out skin, breath heavy in the air. 

Tony wants to say something, to ensure that the moment is real, but he can’t bring himself to break it. Instead he grips his fists into Steve’s shirt, and Steve responds in kind, warm hands holding him a little bit closer. 

He’s not sure how long they stand there until Steve pulls his face back slightly and blinks a few times before looking into Tony’s eyes. His eyelashes are ridiculously long and his eyes are a blue Tony couldn’t begin to describe, and as he’s staring into Tony’s eyes, Tony thinks he finally understands what Steve meant when he said it was too much. And yet Tony can’t get enough of it. 

“You’re looking at me,” Tony says, as if that’s the thing to be amazed at when Steve Rogers has just kissed you, and yet… 

“Yeah…” Steve says, a fond smile tugging at his lips, not breaking his gaze. 

There’s a shiver going down Tony’s spine, and he’s not sure if it’s the fact that he’s still shirtless, or that Steve’s hands are still holding onto his naked skin, or that Steve seems to be staring into his soul. Tony suspects it might be the last one. 

“So uhm…” Tony says, clearing his throat a little bit. “I guess I kinda misunderstood the whole situation then?” 

Steve lets out a puff of laughter, his hands sliding off Tony’s back. He looks a bit embarrassed still, as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Yeah, I, uh,” Steve says, “I guess I wasn’t exactly dealing with it in the best way possible if you thought I was trying to get rid of you or something.” 

“Well, I didn’t suspect you’d go as far as an assasination plan or anything,” Tony says, finding his trademark quip again, as he takes a few steps towards his closet to grab something to cover up. Being shirtless around Captain America makes one feel a little bit self-conscious… Though if Tony is understanding this correctly, he might have to get over that? “But I definitely got the feeling that my charming personality was… How shall I put it delicately? Annoying the fuck out of you.” 

Steve laughs at that, teeth and all, and _ God _ it’s such a brilliant sight. 

“I honestly didn’t think your ego needed more stroking,” Steve starts - and Tony bites his tongue not to make some lude comment about what else could need stroking, “But I guess I might have been wrong about that too if you thought…” He trails off, then shakes his head. Steve takes a deep breath as he faces Tony head on and says, “Look, Tony. Whenever I looked at you… I just… these feelings started bubbling up in me, and it was overwhelming and it hurt because I didn’t think you’d ever…” Tony swallows, hard. “So I did my best to avoid it all, to pretend nothing was going on. And clearly I’m not the best actor in the world because I overcompensated and made you think I hated you, when in reality…” He trails off again, but it’s okay. Tony knows what he’s saying. 

“I guess I never thought that a man like you could ever feel the same way about me,” Tony says, because Steve’s honestly deserves a little vulnerability from Tony’s side as well. “I thought it made more sense that you really didn’t like me.” 

Steve’s eyes are on him again, compasion all over his face. “We need to have a whole lot of conversations,” Steve says, his hand coming up to Tony’s cheek. “Because that…” he shakes his head like he can’t get over that that is what Tony really thought. 

“You know I like to talk,” Tony shrugs, plastering a smile on his face. 

“I mean _ actual _ conversations,” Steve says, like he sees right through Tony. And maybe he does? 

“Yeah,” Tony says, earnestly, “Okay.” Because Tony is definitely willing to try, for Steve. 

And then Steve kisses him again. 

***

“Excuse me, Sir,” JARVIS’ voice sounds through the workshop, cutting through Tony’s concentration, “But you asked me to warn you when Captain Rogers arrived.” 

Normally Tony would work until inspiration runs out, not bothering to surface from his workshop whenever any of the Avengers were in his tower until he was done with whatever it was he was working on, but things were a little different now. It’s not like Steve asked him anything, but the thought that Steve is in proximity, and that Tony now actually gets to touch him and kiss him and look into his eyes is enough for Tony to willingly shut off the blueprints he was working on with the swipe of a hand. 

“He is accompanied by Mister Odinson and Doctor Banner,” JARVIS adds, and Tony is almost certain JARVIS waited a few seconds to add that little fact on purpose. 

Tony can’t help but suppress a sigh before he calls out, “Thank you, JARVIS.” 

“My pleasure, Sir,” JARVIS says. Tony swears he can detect a hint of amusement in the AI’s voice. It’s scary how well he designed JARVIS sometimes. 

So no kissing or touching, because they haven’t actually discussed how they’re going to handle the others just yet. They haven’t actually discussed anything yet, as the kiss was only yesterday, and Steve had a meeting with Fury in the evening and they haven’t really been able to spend any more alone time together. Steve had said he’d come by today, and Tony eagerly accepted. 

Tony feels kind of ridiculous as he walks towards the elevator in a hurry, a certain tingling in his chest in anticipation of seeing Steve. He can’t remember if he’s ever felt like that before, and it’s scary and exciting and intense all at once. He wonders if Steve feels the same way, even though if Steve’s confession from the day before is anything to go by, it’s a fair bet. Which somehow makes Tony even more nervous. He pretty much has it all handed to him on a silver platter. If he screws things up now, it’ll be all his own fault. And Tony is an expert on screwing things up. 

Tony gives himself a quick glance in the mirrored wall of the elevator, trying to decide if he should go change before heading towards the communal floor. He’s wearing jeans and a dark shirt - the glow of the reactor shining through - that are still pretty decent. He hadn’t been working for _ that _ long, not like he does sometimes. He runs a hand through his hair, not sure if he’s making it better or worse, when he notices that JARVIS is taking the elevator towards the communal floor, so he decides to just go with it. 

He can hear Thor’s voice booming from afar as he gets out of the metal box - the man has got some pipes - before he even steps into the kitchen. 

“Tony!” Thor greets him warmly, “You have come to join us.” 

“I figured, since this is technically my house…” Tony says with a smirk and a shrug of the shoulder, his eyes darting over to Steve, who is setting down two big paper grocery bags on the kitchen island. Steve’s eyes meet his, and Tony can’t express how much he enjoys that. 

“JARVIS said you were in your workshop,” Bruce says, slightly surprised, “So I thought we might have to physically remove you.” 

“The good Captain here said he might be able to persuade you,” Thor says with an innocent delight in his voice. 

“Did he now?” Tony asks, and he can’t help the smug smile that creeps over his face as he looks over at Steve. 

Steve just looks at him, his hands leaning on the kitchen island, a content expression on his face, a smile just hidden out of view. It seems that Steve has gained some confidence now that everything’s out in the open between the two of them, and damn if it isn’t just irresistible to Tony. 

It also helps Tony somewhat with the sudden fear that maybe Steve invited the others on purpose. He didn’t mention it yesterday, and even though Tony wouldn’t know why, but maybe Steve has had a sudden change of heart? What if Steve invited them to avoid being alone with Tony? What if this means he’s having second thoughts? Or what if it’s a way to ensure Tony won’t go too fast? Tony knows that he has a reputation, but would Steve really feel like he needed a buffer to… what? Protect him from Tony? Would he think that Tony would push Steve into something he’s not ready for? Tony knows where Steve came from, knows that when it comes to sexual experience and intimacy, Tony is probably way ahead of Steve. And even if Tony didn’t know all of this, he would still not be the kind of person that would assume, or that would push anyone into anything. Surely Steve has to know that? 

“It is the evening of pizza,” Thor declares, interrupting Tony’s spiraling train of thoughts, and Bruce adds with a smile, “Pizza night.” 

“Home made,” Steve says with a warm smile, which is reassuring to Tony, because Steve doesn’t_ look _ like he’s got an elaborate scheme behind all this. He’s taking some ingredients out of the paper bags and displaying them on the counter of the island.

“Wait, what?” Tony asks, frowning, trying to stay with the conversation at hand, “You know I can have JARVIS ring up the best place in the city, right?” He waves his hand in the air. “Hell, I can put on the suit and get the best pizza in the tri-state area!” 

“But where’s the fun in that?” Natasha asks as she saunters into the kitchen, Clint in tow. 

The fact that Tony wasn’t alerted to their arrival at the tower only indicates that JARVIS pretty much considers them part of the furniture by now. He wonders absentmindedly why he’s not changing the access settings as they speak. 

“Do any of you even know how to make pizza?” Tony challenges, looking around him at these people that have uninvitedly encroached on his kitchen… and his life. 

“More part of the fun,” Clint says, shrugging, walking past Tony to take a look in the grocery bags. There’s no anger or awkwardness as he deliberately and playfully bumps into Tony as he passes and Tony is grateful there are no hard feelings from the day before. 

“You’re all insane,” Tony says, but his voice sounds fond, even to his own ears. A glance at Steve earns him a warm smile of approval, so it’s all worth it. 

“Tony, you _ own _ a pizza oven,” Bruce reminds him, pointing out the aforementioned object in the kitchen for good measure. 

“Evening of homemade pizzas it is,” Tony says with swing of his arms, and he’s rewarded by cheers and laughter.

As much as he was looking forward to spending the evening alone with Steve, there’s something to be said for this particular mishmash of crazy as well. 

***

Tony has to admit that the pizza turned out delicious - who knew Bruce was such a fantastic cook? - and the evening has been remarkably fun. He doesn’t think he’s getting rid of any of them tonight, since the pizza has all been devoured but the company is still scattered all over the couches in the living room, with drinks, pleasant conversation and infectious laughter. But that’s okay, he’s got enough guest rooms for everyone. Hell, guest floors even. 

Tony retreats into the kitchen, searching the freezer for some limoncello he’s sure he has there. Fishing out two bottles in victory - he’s seen the way Thor can put back a drink - he pushes the freezer door closed with his hip only to come face to face with Steve. 

“_ Jesus _,” Tony says with a start, and it’s a good thing Steve quickly takes the bottles out of his hands and places them on the counter, or he’d be standing in a puddle of limoncello and broken glass right about now. 

“Hey,” Steve says with a smirk, standing so close that Tony can _ smell _ him. 

Tony takes in a deep breath and looks over Steve’s shoulder for a second, making sure none of the others have followed him into the kitchen. He lets out a content puff of air before looking up at Steve and he can’t even control the smile on his face. “Hey.” 

“Listen,” Steve says, a hand reaching to brush softly over Tony’s lower arm, “Tonight wasn’t my idea.” With the way Steve has been shooting him glances all evening, Tony kind of figured he wasn’t entirely responsible for the group bonding evening tonight, but it’s still nice to have those doubts pushed completely from his mind. “Thor wanted to make sure everything was okay after yesterday,” Steve goes on, his voice soft, as not to disturb or lure the crowd from the living room, “For an all powerful God, he’s surprisingly sensitive.” 

Tony has to smile at that. Thor keeps on being a mystery. 

“And then Nat suggested some down time together,” Steve continues, “And Clint immediately brought up pizza, and well…” Steve shrugs, “I couldn’t exactly say that I wanted to spend the evening alone with you…” 

The words spread through Tony’s chest like a tingling. 

“I mean,” Tony shrugs, doing his best not to reach out and kiss Steve right there and then, “You could have… I guess?” 

Steve throws a quick glance over his shoulder, then looks back at Tony. “I don’t know,” he says, “I wasn’t sure… Didn’t feel like that was a decision I could make on my own.” 

Even though Tony certainly wouldn’t have been angry at Steve if he _ had _ unilaterally decided to tell the others - Tony doesn’t exactly care what others think - the fact that Steve clearly feels like certain decisions are to be made _ together _ now makes a sudden rush of affection flow over him. This is real, and Steve wants to do this right. 

“We can talk about that,” Tony says, nodding. In a way he would just love to scream it from the rooftops, that he and Steve are… a couple? Is that what they are now? But he’s supposed to be more mature than that now, and in another way, having Steve as just his, knowing that they share this little something that no one else knows - that’s kind of exhilarating too. “But so uhm…” Tony says, and he can’t hide the smirk on his face, “Tonight wasn’t about you getting cold feet and needed a buffer then?” 

He means it as a joke, even though he realizes he was worrying about it for real only a few hours ago, and Steve wouldn’t be Steve if he didn’t at least see through Tony a little bit. 

“I swear,” Steve says patiently, “For the most confident man on earth, you can be unnecessarily insecure when it comes to…” 

“_ You _.” Tony shrugs. 

Steve’s hand reaches out, holding Tony’s fingers in his. “You don’t have to be,” Steve whispers, catching Tony’s gaze. 

“I’m not exactly…” Tony sighs, there’s probably way more that they need to talk about than what’s possible right now, in the kitchen, with the rest of the team right next door in the other room, waiting for more drinks. “I mean, I’m - It’s not like I haven’t done this before, but… in a way I really haven’t? If that makes sense?” 

To his surprise, Steve nods, even though Tony knows he’s not exactly being eloquent. 

“So there are about a million ways I’m probably gonna screw this up, just by being me,” Tony says, with an equal mix of flippancy and seriousness. 

“Stop that,” Steve says in a loud whisper, squeezing Tony’s hand a little bit, “Being you is _ not _ a bad thing. I kinda _ like you _, in case you haven’t noticed.” 

“You don’t know what you’re getting into.” Tony takes a tiny step closer to Steve, all sense of personal space disappearing. 

“Trust me, this isn’t the strangest thing that’s ever happened in my life,” Steve admits, but he makes no indication of wanting out. His eyes flickering from Tony’s eyes down to his mouth. 

All Tony has to do is tilt his head up a little bit and Steve is pressing lips down on his, warm and soft. 

***

In the end they all end up staying in the various guest rooms in the tower, as Tony predicted. It’s late and they’re both a little bit too drunk when Steve and Tony end up in front of Tony’s bedroom door and Tony suddenly isn’t quite sure of how to proceed. If the look on Steve’s face is anything to go by, neither is he. 

“Uhm…” Steve says, leaning against the wall, looking a little unsure. 

“You don’t have to worry,” Tony says, trying to be an honorable person - and since when is that a thing? 

Steve’s eyebrows crease in a frown, his head pushing back. “Why would I be worried?” he asks, confused. 

“Just…” Tony says, the alcohol clouding his mind a little bit, which usually doesn’t bother him that much, but it’s a bit of an annoyance right this second. “I know the reputation that I have, and I know that things are probably different for you in that respect, and I just… I’m not expecting anything, and I’m not going to push you into anything, and - ”

“_ Jesus _ Tony,” Steve says, incredulous, a slight flush rising on his cheeks. “Is that what you assume people think of you? What you think _ I _think of you?” 

“I…” Tony trails off, because he can tell he’s gone and put his foot in his mouth again. 

“Look, I actually really appreciate the sentiment,” Steve says, determined. “But you’ve got to stop assuming that people think the worst of you, and especially that _ I _ will do so.” 

“That wasn’t - ” Tony shakes his head, because when Steve puts it like that, Tony knows it didn’t quite come out in a good way. The last thing he wants is for Steve to get offended. 

“I know that if I tell you that I’m not ready to have sex, you’re going to respect that,” Steve says, his face flustered but his words crisp and clear. “I’m not the one that needs convincing that you’re a _good_ _man_, Tony Stark.” 

It’s not something Tony is used to hearing, and to have the words coming from Steve is enough to sober Tony up a little bit. 

“The thing is,” Steve says, drawling out his words, “I never said I wasn’t ready to have sex with you.” It’s funny how Tony can tell that Steve’s bravado is only surface thick when it comes to this subject. His cheeks are covered in a blush and his eyes have trouble staying on Tony’s, though he definitely tries. But the fact that Steve is clearly determined to have his say, despite underlying embarrassment is one of the many things that Tony likes about Steve. 

“Just not right now,” Steve says, leaning forward to drop a quick kiss on Tony’s mouth. Tony automatically moves forward as Steve pulls back again, drawn in by Steve, and it makes Steve smile. “Because you’ve had too much to drink - ”

“You had about the same amount,” Tony feels obligated to point out for some reason, even though he’s not arguing with Steve on the premise. 

“Serum,” Steve rebuts easily. He locks eyes with Tony as he continues, “I just want you to be_ all _there when we do this, okay?”

“Yeah.” Tony nods, blinking slowly, because as much as he wants to climb Steve like a tree and have his way with him right now, he doesn’t want it to be something dirty and half inebriated that really isn’t good for anything but some quick relief. “That’s how I want it too.” And he means it. 

“Good,” Steve says, his face lighting up in a smile. 

“Can I make a suggestion?” Tony asks, and the fact that he’s holding up his finger is yet another indication that Tony isn’t entirely as sober as he’d like to be right now. “No sex,” he says, still keeping his finger up, now to illustrate his first point. “But if you want, you can, uh… sleep over here.” He nods towards his bedroom. “Just… you know.” 

“Sleep,” Steve says somewhere between a question and a statement. 

“Just sleep,” Tony says, holding up his hands, palms out. “Only if you want to.”

Steve looks like he’s mulling it over in his head, before nodding with a smile. “Sounds nice,” he says, pushing past Tony as he walks into the bedroom, grabbing Tony’s hand on the way in. 

“Yeah…” Tony says, suddenly sounding a little breathless, following pliantly. 

The bathroom routine feels a bit funny to Tony, brushing his teeth as Steve splashes water over his face. It feels weirdly intimate and yet Tony thinks he could probably get used to it real quick, because it’s Steve. As Tony pulls his shirt over his head to reach down for the arc reactor to put in a new core, Steve steps out of the bathroom, and Tony can’t really tell if it’s because he’s trying to give Tony some privacy or because it just so happens that he’s done. Either way, Tony appreciates it. 

Finished, Tony puts on a fresh shirt and walks back into the bedroom, where he finds Steve already in his bed. And isn’t that just a sight to behold? Steve is laying on his back, one arm curled above his head, hand disappearing in his hair. His eyes are closed and his face rests into a content smile. Tony can tell he’s not asleep yet by the rhythm his - naked - chest is moving up and down. He stands in the doorway just a second, observing the scene. He never actually thought he’d have Steve Rogers in his bed, waiting for him. And yet here he is, staring at the evidence. He looks like something out of a magazine, and even though Tony is fully commited to this ‘no sex’ rule they have going tonight, he can’t help the fire that builds up in the pit of his abdomen. Steve is gorgeous, this isn’t news to Tony. But the way he’s laying there in nothing but some sweatpants, half covered by Tony’s sheets… This is a whole new level of hotness. 

Tony’s eyes trail down Steve’s body, from the soft look on his face, over his chiseled chest, down to the waistband of Steve’s sweats. He figures it’s not a good thing to linger there any longer, or to go further down, so his eyes snap back over to Steve’s face. Steve, who is now looking back at Tony with a knowing smile on his face. 

“Sorry,” Tony says almost automatically, flipping off the light in the bathroom and closing the door behind him. 

“Don’t be,” Steve says, stretching his arms out. “Do you have a preferred side?” 

“Yeah,” Tony says, striding over to the bed swiftly, and climbing over Steve unceremoniously to plop down on his other side. He immediately rolls back over to face Steve, whose arm slots nicely over Tony’s hip. 

“You liked what you saw?” Steve asks, his face so close to Tony’s that their noses almost touch. 

“Shut up,” Tony says with a smirk, playfully pushing at Steve’s chest without any force at all. After all, the last thing he wants is to truly create distance between them. 

“I’m starting to want you to make me,” Steve says with a smirk - and who knew? - echoing Tony’s words from long ago back to him. He takes it as an invitation though, leaning just a tiny bit forward to close the gap between them and press his lips against Steve’s. 

Steve opens up eagerly beneath Tony’s mouth, tongue darting out to find Tony’s. The kiss is purposefully slow, but deliberate, Tony mapping out every inch of Steve’s mouth, committing the taste and feel of Steve’s lips to memory. It doesn’t lead anywhere, isn’t meant or even allowed to, it just… _ is _. Steve’s hand is large and warm on Tony’s side, just the right amount of pressure. Tony’s pretty sure that if he gives in and pulls Steve on top of him, he’ll be hard in under a second, despite the alcohol. So Tony just curls his arms around Steve’s body, willfully not pressing the rest of his body against Steve’s.

When Steve hums into the kiss, Tony’s hips twitch a little bit, and a guttural groan escapes his own throat, caught by Steve’s tongue, stroking over his own. 

It’s as if they both understand at the same time that if they keep this up, their agreement to ‘just sleep’ will shatter to pieces, and they break the kiss, Tony presses his nose against Steve’s cheek with a satisfied hum. 

“Sorry,” Steve says, his voice quiet but rough around the edges. 

“Don’t be,” Tony replies, twisting around in Steve’s embrace, manoeuvring Steve’s arms around him until he’s comfortably laying up against Steve in a position he thinks he can fall asleep in. Steve complies easily, slotting himself perfectly against Tony. “And no comment on me being the little spoon, Cap,” Tony says pointedly as he closes his eyes. 

“The little what?” Steve murmurs questioningly. 

“Really?” Tony asks, tilting his head to the side in an attempt to catch Steve in the corner of his eye. “There’s so much I need to teach you.” 

“Starting tomorrow,” Steve mutters, the sleep audible in his voice as he presses his face against Tony’s neck. His breath tickles against Tony’s skin. 

“‘Night,” Tony says as he closes his eyes, his body relaxing inside of Steve’s embrace. 

Steve presses a kiss in the crook of Tony’s neck in response, tightening his arms around Tony’s body. 

Tony falls asleep quickly, and he doesn’t mind that Steve’s fingers protectively rest over his arc reactor.

***

When Tony wakes up, he is aware of the enormous heat pressed up against his back. He doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone that runs so hot as Steve Rogers. 

It’s not the only thing Tony is aware of though. One of Steve’s legs has slipped in between his own during the night, a thigh pressing up, and there is no mistaking the curve of Steve’s hard cock nestled against Tony’s ass, separated only by two layers of fabric. The fact that Tony is still half asleep doesn’t stop his own body from reacting in kind. One of Steve’s large hands, resting low on Tony’s belly underneath Tony’s shirt doesn’t help either. Tony is hard within seconds. 

He lets out a noise somewhere between a groan and a hum, as he peels his eyes open through heavy eyelids. He has no idea what time it is, but he figures it’s morning by the way JARVIS has let some light trickle through the automated curtains. 

Steve stirs a little bit against Tony, fingers bumping against the waistband of Tony’s boxers and it sends a shiver down Tony’s spine, eliciting goosebumps on his skin. Tony can tell Steve is waking up, the way he presses his face into the crook of Tony’s neck, arms tightening around Tony’s body. 

Tony thinks he could wake up like this some more. Possibly for the rest of his life. Who would have thought Playboy Stark would ever feel this way? 

“Morning,” Tony whispers, moving a hand over Steve’s arm, reveling in the touch. Steve’s skin is radiating heat, and Tony wonders idly if it’s the super soldier serum, or if it’s quite simply Steve. 

Steve hums contently, his hips twitching against Tony’s ass, and Tony can feel his entire length pressed up against him. He lets out a shivering breath, trying to keep his body still. 

“Uhm, Steve…” Tony says, hoarse. 

Steve responds with a moan, pressing his body closer against Tony’s. He wants this, God, Tony wants this so badly, but he hasn’t forgotten what Steve said the night before, and he certainly doesn’t want to fuck this up by having no self control. Of course, the way Steve is rutting up against him, it’s getting harder and harder for Tony… _ literally _. 

“Are you awake?” Tony asks, softly, because what if Steve is still half asleep and running on auto-pilot and isn’t actually aware of the intimate situation they’re in? 

“‘m awake,” Steve mutters, shifting some more against Tony. There’s a beat of silence and then Steve asks, “Tony?” 

“Yeah,” Tony asks, closes his eyes again, trying to keep his composure. He can feel every inch of his skin tingling. 

“Can I…?” Steve asks, his voice sounding wrecked already, as his fingertips tease under the waistband of Tony’s boxers just a little bit, making his intentions clear. 

There’s a rush of electricity surging through Tony’s body at the mere thought of what Steve is suggesting, what he is offering, and his voice sounds foreign to himself as he asks, “Are you - are you sure?” Tony swallows hard. “Yesterday, you…” 

“Are you here with me?” Steve asks, and Tony can tell he’s holding himself still now until Tony gives him the go. 

“_ Completely _,” Tony answers honestly, because the alcohol has long left his system, and he has never been more certain of what he wants. What he’s wanted for a very long time, and it’s all Steve. 

“I won’t if you don’t want to,” Steve says, his hand still and flat against the exposed skin below Tony’s bunched up shirt. “But if you do, I…” 

“Yes,” Tony rushes out, something tightening low in his belly in anticipation. 

The word has barely left Tony’s mouth or Steve’s hand dips inside Tony’s boxers, and wraps around Tony’s cock, large and warm. 

Tony lets out a shuddering breath, going pliant in Steve’s arms as he strokes down Tony’s dick, tentatively. He can feel Steve’s lips on his skin as he flicks his thumb over the tip of Tony’s length. Tony knows he won’t last long, knows that the knowledge that Steve is jerking him off, that Steve’s cock is rock hard and pressing against Tony’s back through his sweatpants, that Steve is panting in his ear, making little noises like he can’t help himself, will be enough to bring Tony over the edge in record time. 

“This good?” Steve asks, his voice deep and rough, hand building up to a steady rhythm in the confines of his boxers. His other arm is curled underneath Tony, hand splayed on his belly under his shirt, clutching Tony to his chest. 

“Yeah,” Tony breathes out, reaching one arm behind him, fingertips digging into the skin of Steve’s hip. “Fuck, yeah. _ Steve _…” 

He can feel Steve grinding his hips against Tony’s back, hard, probably painfully so, and Tony wants to turn around, get his hands or his mouth on Steve’s cock, but he also doesn’t want to lose the feeling of Steve’s hand on him, warm and strong, twisting his wrist on the upstroke in just the right way. 

Tony knows he’s close already. He hooks a thumb under his boxers, pushing them down enough for his dick to spring free, giving Steve’s hand some more freedom to move. Steve’s fingers slide down, cupping Tony’s balls, squeezing slightly, making Tony gasp for air sharply. 

“Is this alright?” Steve whispers in Tony’s ear, and Tony wonders for a brief second if this is the first time Steve is doing this to a man? Or if it’s the first time at all? Not that he’s not doing a great job, ‘cause _ God _, Tony’s so close… But because he seems to crave some reassurance from Tony. 

“God, _ Steve _, it’s perfect,” Tony moans, writhing against Steve. “I wanna… You…” Tony tilts his head back, leaning against Steve’s shoulder, desperate to make more contact with Steve even though their entire bodies are pressed together. 

“After,” Steve mutters, his grip around Tony’s cock speeding up, making it harder and harder for Tony breathe or form any sort of coherent thought. “You first,” Steve says, his other hand stroking over the inside of Tony’s thigh, his own cock pressing up against his back, and oh God, Tony can feel a wet patch through Steve’s sweatpants. If there was any part of Tony still holding back, the thought of Steve being so damn turned on as he jerks off Tony is enough to let it all go. He lets out a loud moan, pressing his ass back against Steve’s cock as far as he can, desperate for contact. 

“_ Fuck _,” Steve says, drawing out the word as he tightens his hand around Tony’s length, and Tony doesn’t even have time to warn Steve before he’s coming, hard and loud, spurting all over Steve’s hand. 

He’s gasping for air as Steve strokes him through it, and then Steve is pushing his body forward and pressing Tony into the mattress, pumping his hips against Tony’s body, once, twice… and then Steve lets out a cry and comes, without Tony even touching him. 

“Fuck,” Tony breathes out, as Steve collapses on top of him, pinning him against the matress. 

Steve’s breath is heavy in Tony’s ear, like his body, a pleasant weight plastered all over him. Tony gasps for air, his entire body still feeling on fire, and he honestly can’t remember the last time he had an orgasm that satisfying. Not that his brain is particularly coherent at the moment, only flashes of Steve and pleasure and happiness flooding it. 

Tony moves a little bit, and Steve takes it as a cue to roll over onto his back, sprawling out his arms next to him as Tony flips over, swinging one leg over Steve’s waist smoothly, and drops his hands next to Steve’s face, leaning down to kiss him. The kiss is sloppy and wet, and they’re both still catching their breaths, but it doesn’t seem to matter to either of them. 

Tony figures that if anyone can take his weight, it’ll be Steve, so he presses his body down on top of Steve’s, unceremoniously, kissing Steve languidly. 

They’re a mess, definitely in need of a shower, fresh clothes, and a change of sheets, but all that can wait just a few minutes longer. Because right now Tony is as happy as he can remember being, and the way Steve is holding on to him, kissing him back tenderly doesn’t entice Tony to move, ever again. 

***

“Seriously though?” Clint asks, brushing some invisible dust off of his outfit, “You don’t feel just a little bit ridiculous?” 

“Look, nobody got hurt,” Steve skillfully avoids the question, his head held high as he oversees the scene. Tony can hear the slight edge to Steve’s voice indicating that Steve is, in fact, a little bit embarrassed. “That’s really all that matters,” Steve finishes steadily. 

Tony smirks behind his face plate as he lands next to them, metallic feet clunking on the ground. Clint looks over at Bruce, clearly wanting him to weigh in. 

“I’m just glad I didn’t have to let the Other Guy out,” Bruce shrugs, calmly as ever. 

“It avoided you having to put on new garments,” Thor says with a smile, slapping Bruce joyfully on the shoulder. Bruce has to move a foot forward in order not to lose balance, but Thor is blissfully unaware. 

“Well, Nat got to kick some bad guy ass, so that’s always a win in her book,” Clint mutters, not even bothering to ask Natasha her opinion. She doesn’t argue though, just looks content, not a scratch on her. 

“We just got some bad intel,” Tony shrugs, as much as the suit allows him to. He clicks open his face plate. “Obviously our presence wasn’t needed, but like Cap said, nobody got hurt. So it’s all good.” 

“It was a bank robbery, Stark!” Clint calls out, incredulous. 

“There was mention of alien activity,” Steve tries to justify himself, clearly embarrassed because it was his call to assemble. 

“They wore alien masks!” Clint called out, waving over at the spot where the NYPD has just taken away the perpetrators. “Stupid rubber alien masks! They weren’t even realistic! They probably got them for five bucks on Amazon or something!” 

Tony can’t help but laugh, because really, it is kind of funny. Earth’s Dream Team assembling for a simple bank heist. Steve gives him a somewhat stern look. 

“I’m sorry,” Tony chuckles, and he really does hate to disagree with Steve, or even worse… _ agree with Clint _. “It was five shmucks in alien getups!”

“It was a hostage situation,” Steve tries as a last resort, that same resolved look still on his face. 

“And a really bad one at that,” Tony says, amused, “That one guy dropped his gun right on his foot when he saw you standing in front of him. He was about two seconds away from slapping the handcuffs on himself!”

It was nothing the NYPD couldn’t have handled themselves, but it was an honest mistake, and at least there’s no actual alien invasion going on, and Tony thinks they can probably get home before lunch. So it’s a definite win in his books. 

“The tall one cried like a tiny infant,” Thor recalls, bemused. 

“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t exactly the end of the world that was near…” Steve says, deflated. His shoulders slump, the stern look on his face fading a bit. 

“I liked the lecture you gave on what they were doing with their lives,” Natasha says, the tone in her voice so damn neutral, Tony would have a hard time knowing she was pulling Steve’s chain if he didn’t know her so well by now. 

“Alright, alright,” Steve says, and there’s a smile creeping through, “That’s enough out of all of you.” 

“Hey, maybe you really did scare them straight,” Tony says, flashing a smile at Steve, “You’re more impressive than you know.” 

Tony detects a slight blush rising on Steve’s cheeks as Steve sneaks a look at Tony under long eyelashes. 

“And what are we? Chopped liver?” Clint calls out. 

There’s some noise catching Tony’s attention, and as he looks around, he can see a few journalists now arriving at the scene, trying to get through the police tape. 

“That’s our cue,” Tony says, his face plate closing again. “Besides, I’m starving. JARVIS?” 

“Sir,” JARVIS replies dutifully. 

“Make sure there’s an assortment of sandwiches in the kitchen when we arrive,” Tony says casually, “I’m in the mood for roast beef.” 

“Certainly, Sir,” JARVIS answers without hesitation. 

Tony extends an arm out to Steve, and asks, “Can I give you a ride?” 

Steve steps into Tony’s space, slotting an arm around the armor, gratefully accepting the invitation. 

“Hey! What about us?” Clint asks, and over his shoulder Tony can see a couple of journalists have managed to get past the police and heading their way. Tony wastes no time in firing up his jets, clasping one arm tightly around Steve’s waist. 

“We’ll save you some!” Tony calls out as he speeds up into the air with Steve securely by his side, heading straight for the tower. 

***

There are fresh sandwiches on the table in the communal area when Tony and Steve get there, as promised. Tony has JARVIS take off his Iron Man suit and stow it, and digs into a roast beef one straight away. Steve appears to be hungry too, because he doesn’t bother to take off his uniform before grabbing one of the sandwiches as well, he just pushes back his cowl. They eat mostly in silence. 

Tony figures, what with the reporters and the commute, they’ve got some time before the others arrive. He can’t help but note the preoccupied look on Steve’s face though. 

“Don’t worry so much,” Tony tells him when he’s finished his sandwich, leaning back in his chair. “I mean, it’s good publicity at least. And we didn’t even rake up any costs for damages made to the city of New York. That’s a first! The press will love it. Friendly neighborhood Avengers, dealing with a bank robbery in under ten minutes.” 

“Fury will say that we shouldn’t be wasting our resources on it though,” Steve says, frowning, getting up from the table. 

“Fury can stuff his resources up his ass,” Tony says, flippant, “I’m paying for most of it anyway. And I know we were just laughing back there, but we did a good thing today. On a smaller scale than we’re used to, sure. But it was still a dangerous situation for those people stuck in there. And we saved them.” 

“Yeah, that’s true,” Steve says, the frown disappearing from his forehead as he leans against the back of the couch. He seems somewhat reassured, which pleases Tony. 

“You did good, Captain,” Tony says, sincere, as he gets up and takes a few steps closer to Steve. 

“So did you, Iron Man,” Steve smiles, reaching out his hands to put them on Tony’s hips, tugging him a little bit closer. 

“You might even say we make a great team,” Tony says, leering into Steve’s eyes, slipping his arms over Steve’s shoulders. 

Steve’s eyes are warm and familiar, drawing Tony in. 

“You might,” Steve says, softly, and presses his lips against Tony’s. 

Tony is still not used to the fact that he actually gets to kiss Steve. That this isn’t just a thing of his imagination anymore, that he knows now how Steve’s lips taste. How Steve likes his kisses languid and thorough. How Steve likes to rest his hands on Tony’s hips. How Steve likes to slot his entire body against Tony’s, not even necessarily in a sexy way, but just to feel Tony against him. How Steve likes it when Tony puts his hand on the back of Steve’s neck, fingers playing in his hair. How Steve knows that Tony likes it when he scrapes his teeth against the skin of Tony’s neck. How Steve knows that Tony likes it when he loses himself completely in the kiss, just like they’re doing right now and - 

“_ Holy shit! _” Natasha’s voice bellows through the room, and Tony’s heart jumps in his chest as he breaks away from Steve, startled. 

“What the fuck was that?” Clint’s face matches Natasha’s in shock. Thor simply looks pleasantly surprised, and Bruce… Bruce doesn’t look surprised _ at all _. But all are standing in the room now, staring at Steve and Tony, who just pulled apart like someone dropped a bucket of ice cold water over them. 

“JARVIS, you’re fired,” Tony says blandly, turning away from Steve with a sigh. 

“I’m sorry, Sir,” the AI says in his same neutral voice, “You left me no instructions for - ”

“You interrupted me the other day when I was peeing!” Tony calls out, annoyed. 

“Apologies, Sir,” JARVIS simply says. There’s a beat of silence before JARVIS announces, “Sir, Agents Romanoff and Barton, Doctor Banner, and Mister Odinson have arrived in the tower.” 

Tony throws his hands up in the air, completely done. He contemplates a complete system reboot, but if he’s honest he knows he’d miss JARVIS way too much. 

“Thank you, JARVIS,” Steve says, polite yet curt enough that JARVIS doesn’t give another peep. 

“We should probably go,” Bruce says, looking questioningly between Steve and Tony. 

“We haven’t eaten yet,” Thor says matter-of-factly, as he reaches for the table and grabs two sandwiches. 

“How can you think of food?” Clint asks, dumbstruck, “They were… _ they were kissing! _” He points at Tony and Steve for good measure. 

“Look, don’t get your panties in a bunch, Barton,” Tony says. 

“You were kissing!” Clint calls out again. 

“Yeah, I kinda know that!” Tony retorts, “It was my tongue in the good Captain’s mouth!” 

“Oh _ God _,” Clint moans, eyes wide. He can’t seem to get over the shock. 

“Today is officially the weirdest day ever,” Natasha shakes her head, recovering quickly. 

“I am happy,” Thor announces, smiling broadly at the two of them, and it’s kind of endearing to see. 

“Thank you, Thor,” Steve says, and Thor reaches out his hand to shake Steve’s. 

“It is a thing of beauty when two people find each other,” Thor says, sincerely, now clasping Tony’s hand in his. “And it is something that you both deserve very much.” 

“Thanks, buddy,” Tony says, giving Thor a quick slap on the arm. 

“So wait, this is like...a thing?” Natasha asks, clearly still having some questions about the whole thing. “Did this just happen, or…?” 

Tony looks at Steve, and he figures he doesn’t have to hide the fond expression in his face anymore. 

“Since the coffee incident in the kitchen, right?” Bruce asks, tilting his head at Tony, “When you left in a huff?” 

“You knew?” Tony says, astounded, his head snapping towards Bruce. He should have known Bruce was the cleverest of them all. He doesn’t say much, but he sure does have the power of observation. 

“Yeah,” Steve says, and he can’t seem to hide the smile on his face, nor the blush on his cheeks. “Just a couple of days. But yeah, definitely… a thing.” 

“_ Dayum _…” Natasha stretches out the word, a smile creeping on her face. Then she turns to Clint and slaps him in the chest with the back of her hand. “We’re the worst secret agents in the world. We had no clue!” 

“You should have known, really,” Tony says amused, because if he thinks about it, the whole thing is kind of funny. “There was pining. This one was miserable.” He pokes a finger at Steve. He mouths, “A complete mess.” 

“Excuse me?” Steve calls out, hands on his hips. “I believe you were the one that was miserable.” 

“Only because I didn’t know you were harbouring a secret crush on me,” Tony teases, smiling affectionately at Steve. 

“Right,” Steve says, turning towards Tony, playing along, “‘cause you had no feelings, whatsoever. No irrational mood swings because you thought I hated you?” 

“I don’t do mood swings,” Tony smirks, leaning into Steve a little bit. 

And Steve appears like he can’t hide his smile either, shaking his head fondly. 

“Wow, you two are actually sickeningly sweet,” Natasha says, plopping down on a chair and taking a sandwich in front of her. 

“How did we _ not _ see this?” Clint asks, following Natasha’s moves. 

“I ask myself the same thing…” Tony mutters, looking into Steve’s eyes and wondering how he could ever _ not _ see the affection in them. 

And Tony gets it now. If Steve had been able to look him in the eyes like he does now, it would have been clear all along. Because once he’s allowed himself to, Steve wears his heart on his sleeve, and all Tony has to do is gaze back into his eyes and he can see… he is loved. 

And Tony is sure that his own eyes match. 

***

_ Fin _


End file.
